Wife Swap
by Neoyorquina
Summary: Pres. Fitzgerald T. Grant and Sen. Edison Davis are at the end of their rope when it comes to dealing with the two strong-willed women in their lives. Find out what happens when two high-powered politicians take the extreme step of swapping their womenfolk for six weeks.
1. Desperate Times Desperate Measures

_A/N: After watching Scandal's episode 10 last Thursday, I jokingly said on Twitter that Edison and Fitz needed to do a wife swap. Edison is angry with Liv and Fitz is going to be pissed at Mellie once he realizes the mess she's created. And then I got to thinking, wouldn't it be fun to write a story where Edison and Fitz swap their significant others? So, here goes! **This will be a lighthearted, wacky, screwball type of story.** Not sure yet, how many chapters, but no angst or heavy drama here. **Leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks! - Neo ** _

* * *

**Chapter 1: Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures**

"So, Edison, tell me why you think you're here today?" asked the psychologist.

"Well, Olivia and I have been in a relationship for roughly four years. I want to get married but she doesn't. She's happy with the way things are but I'm not. I'm a senator and it doesn't look good for me to still be single without children at 45."

"And Olivia, why do you think you're here today?" Dr. Jill Perrymore asked, turning to look directly at the petite polished woman sitting in front of her.

"Well, doctor, my career is very important to me. I recently moved my crisis communications firm here to D.C. and I want to get it well established before I take on the commitment of marriage," Olivia said. "I'm only 35, so I feel like this is a peak moment in time for me. Starting a family can wait."

"Edison, how does that make you feel?"

"I feel like a second-class citizen. I'm not a priority. I feel like if she had to choose between her career or our relationship, she'd choose her work."

"How is your sex life?" the doctor asked.

"Great!" Edison exclaimed. "In fact, that's the one area of our relationship that is working." Olivia didn't say anything and just merely nodded her head in agreement, but she wasn't very convincing.

"Olivia, you haven't said very much. Share with us what you're feeling right now," said the trained therapist.

"Dr. Perrymore, Edison and I, we're at an impasse in our relationship. I feel like we have a good thing right now, so why ruin it with marriage?"

Dr. Perrymore put down her Montblanc pen and closed the leather bound notebook she was taking notes in.

"I think the two of you could benefit from some time apart," she finally said.

"You mean break up?" Olivia asked, perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Impossible!" Edison interjected.

"No, not break up, just go on an extended hiatus. In fact, I think you both need to spend some time away from each other, and I've got just the perfect solution to help you gain some much needed perspective on your relationship."

Olivia and Edison exchanged perplexed looks.

"Now, what I'm about to recommend to you is a radical approach to fixing your relationship, but I've used this technique with other couples to great success," Dr. Perrymore said.

* * *

**_Later the same day..._**

"Are you kidding me?!" Mellie screamed. "You actually expect me, the First Lady of the United States, to temporarily separate from my husband?"

"Now, now, Mellie, calm down," Fitz said patting her lightly on the hand. "We've tried everything else already to save our marriage. Let's hear the doctor out. She did say this was going to be a radical suggestion."

"Thank you, Pres. Grant," Dr. Perrymore replied. "Yes, this is radical, but as I've said, I've used this technique before with other couples to great success."

"So, what exactly would it entail?" Fitz asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"Both you and Mellie need some time apart to get a new appreciation for the marriage you currently have," Dr. Perrymore said. "You've been married for 20 years, so it's only natural that a sort of residual resentment has built up in your relationship. What I'm proposing is you both take a break, taking some time way from one another so you can develop a new found appreciation for the longstanding relationship you have."

"So you expect one of us to move into a hotel or what?" Mellie asked, exasperated. "That's not going to happen!"

"Yes, Dr. Perrymore, this won't be easy but you still haven't said exactly how this would work," Fitz said, trying to keep a calm and measured tone.

"Well, what I'm proposing is essentially a wife swap," Dr. Perrymore said.

_**"A WIFE SWAP?!"** _exclaimed both Mellie and Fitz in unison.

_"What the hell!"_ Fitz muttered under his breath.

"You _**cannot** _be serious!" Mellie said to the doctor.

"As I told you before, this is a radical technique and it's not one that I often suggest. But in your case, I think it would be beneficial," the doctor said.

Fitz and Mellie looked at each other in complete surprise.

"C'mon, Fitz, let's go!" Mellie said, standing up and grabbing her coat. "I've heard enough from this overpriced quack! And to think she came so highly recommended!"

Mellie was halfway to the door when she realized that Fitz was still rooted to his chair and wasn't going anywhere.

"Fitz? Are you coming?" Mellie asked impatiently.

"Dr. Perrymore, I must say that if I find your suggestion completely unorthodox, but if you say that you've used it before with success, I'd like to hear more about how this might work," he said.

_"Are you insane?!"_ Mellie yelled. She marched back over to Fitz and tried to pull him out of the chair. "We are **_NOT_** doing this! I can't believe you're even listening to this crazy woman!"

"Mellie, we've tried everything, from meditation to Buddhism to traditional marriage counseling with Dr. Phil and Deepak Chopra. Nothing has worked. This is our last chance. Aren't you even the least bit curious about how this might work?" Fitz asked looking up at his wife.

Mellie remained standing with her arms crossed.

"Doctor, please, continue," Fitz said.

"Well, like I was saying, I've identified a couple in a similar situation as yours. They've agreed to take this approach. What it would entail would be that Mellie would move into the other couple's house and the woman in the other couple would move into the White House with you."

"The other woman? Aren't they married?" Mellie asked.

"No, it's a couple that has been together for a number of years in a long-distance relationship, but they are unmarried," Dr. Perrymore replied. "The woman recently moved from New York City here to D.C. to be with the man."

"So how long would this woman live in the White House?" Fitz asked.

"Six weeks," said the doctor.

_**"SIX WEEKS?!"**_ Mellie exclaimed. "Oh there's no way in hell that I would agree to live in some stranger's house for six weeks!"

"Well, six weeks is the maximum amount of time. Often what happens is that a breakthrough happens way before the experience is over. However, I've found that six weeks is the ideal amount of time for a deep meaningful change in attitude to take place," the doctor replied.

"This other couple, who are they?" Fitz asked.

_"FITZGERALD THOMAS GRANT!_ Are you seriously considering this?!" Mellie exclaimed.

Fitz ignored her outburst and looked straight at the doctor.

"Actually, you already know the man. He's Sen. Edison Davis from Florida."

"Wow, Sen. Davis has come to you for counseling?" Mellie asked, finally taking a seat. She was astonished and so was Fitz, especially since he was aware that Sen. Davis' long-term girlfriend was the spectacularly stunning Olivia Pope. Fitz had never met Olivia in person, but her reputation as a crisis communications expert preceded her. She had recently been featured in a Sunday New York Times Magazine article with an extensive photo spread, and Fitz had been particularly struck by how physically attractive she was.

"Dr. Perrymore, well, I must say that you had my curiosity before but now you have my attention," Fitz said with a smirk. The idea of a "wife swap" might not be so bad after all. Mellie, noticing the change in his demeanor, slapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, I haven't agreed to anything yet," she said testily.

"Look, I know this is a big decision, so I'll give you a few days to think about it and get back to me," the therapist said.

"No, that won't be necessary," Fitz said. "We'll do it."

"We'll _WHAT?!_" Mellie hissed.

"I said, we'll do it," he said turning to look directly at her. "You either go along with this little experiment or you go find yourself a good divorce attorney. _**Today**_."

_"What?!"_

"You heard me! I'm at the end of my rope. This is our final shot. On the ride over here, you asked me to tell you what to do to fix our marriage. I told you to have an open mind to what the doctor recommended. And you agreed, before we even stepped foot into this office, that you would do anything to fix our marriage," Fitz said firmly.

Mellie slumped down in the chair and pouted.

"So, Doc, when can we get started?" Fitz asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks for reading all the way to the end. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Check the "follow" box below so you can get an email alert when the next chapter of this wacky adventure/experiment in couples therapy is posted. Thanks for reading and reviewing! -Neo**  
_

_**Find me on Twitter at: NeoScandal  
**_


	2. On Second Thought, Oh Never Mind

_**A/N: In the first chapter we saw Fitz and Mellie's reaction to who they'd be swapping lives with but we didn't see Edison's and Olivia's. And not surprisingly, Edison and Olivia have completely different reactions to the news of who they'll be trading places with.**_

**Chapter 2: On Second Thought, Oh Never Mind**

"So Edison and Olivia, I have good news. I've found another married couple that are willing to exchange lives with you for six weeks."

Edison sat up a little bit straighter in his chair. Olivia began to fiddle with the ring on her index finger. They were both nervous about what Dr. Perrymore was going to say next.

"You're not going to believe this, but the other couple is…" she paused.

"C'mon, Dr. Perrymore, spit it out!" Edison exclaimed.

"The other couple is Pres. Grant and the First Lady."

"Is this some kind of prank? Is this some kind of hidden camera reality show?" Olivia asked looking around the office.

Dr Perrymore laughed and said, "relax, I can assure you that this is no prank. Yes, believe it or not, Pres. Grant and the First Lady are having marital problems. They've come to me as a last resort and have agreed to this extreme measure in a last ditch effort to resuscitate their marriage."

Olivia looked at Edison then looked at Dr. Perrymore. "Dr, would you please give Edison and me a moment?"

The therapist got up and left the office. As soon as she was gone, Edison jumped out of his seat and did a Tiger Woods fist pump. "This is the BEST news ever!" he exclaimed.

Olivia looked at her boyfriend aghast. "Edison, you **_cannot_** be serious? When I tentatively agreed to this little experiment, I thought it would be a regular D.C couple, not the_** President and First Lady of the United States!"**_

"Olivia, can't you see? _This is brilliant!_ This will be like the ultimate networking opportunity!" Edison said, brimming with excitement. "Do you know how many other senators would _**KILL**_ to have this opportunity? This is going to do wonders for my career!"

"And here I thought we were seeking couples counseling because it was our relationship that needed rescuing, not your career," Olivia said sarcastically.

"This is going to be great for your career too!" Edison exclaimed. "Just imagine all the new connections you'll make by living in the White House! Everyone who is anyone in D.C is going to want to hire you after this. You can ingratiate yourself with the President, I'll do the same with the First Lady. Together, we'll be unstoppable after this is over."

"Edison, get a grip! Would you just listen to yourself! We're not talking about attending a White House BBQ. We're talking about swapping our lives with the President and the First Lady for six weeks!" Olivia exclaimed. "I can't do this. We need to find another way to work on our relationship. We need to find another therapist."

"We've got a new problem then," Edison said angrily, crossing his arms. "Because I like Dr Perrymore just fine and I don't want to see another therapist."

"Well, you can't always get what you want," Olivia said, standing up. "I'll make a couple of calls and find someone else."

"You will do no such thing, unless you want the lease agreement on your fabulous new office space to suddenly be cancelled" Edison said with a stern tone.

_"Excuse me?"_

"You heard me," Edison said. "Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you that glamorous office space in one of Washington, D.C.'s most historic buildings?"

"Look, you volunteered to do that for me, I didn't ask you to," Olivia protested.

"Yes, well, now I can undo it. With just one simple phone call," Edison sneered.

_"You son of a bitch!_ _You wouldn't dare!"_ Olivia spat out.

"Test me," Edison replied. "And then let's see how fast you can get Olivia Pope & Associates off the ground then!"

"You know what, Edison, after four years together, it's becoming clearer to me why you and I still aren't married." Olivia said. "Maybe coming to this therapist was a good idea after all because I think it's obvious that we are through!"

Olivia grabbed her purse and walked toward the door. Edison ran ahead and got in front of her and blocked her exit.

"Hey, Olivia, honey, I'm sorry," he said in a sickeningly soft voice. "I was just kidding. I didn't mean it. Of course I wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardize your new business. It's just that I really want us to do this wife swap thing. It's like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This could really change our lives…for the better."

Olivia just looked at him. She was pissed but she didn't want to fight.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, across town at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue**_

"…and then there's still the situation with appointing a new Treasury Secretary. Timothy Gardner says he's willing to stay in the job six more months but we need to start publicly floating some names of possible replacements now so we don't run into issues with the nomination," Cyrus said handing Fitz a folder with a short list of highly-qualified candidates. Fitz opened it and started flipping through it.

"OK, I'll review this later," the POTUS said, putting the folder back down. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it for now," Cyrus said, standing up and getting ready to leave the Oval Office.

"Cy, before you go, I need you to do something for me," Fitz said.

"Sure, what is it?" Cyrus asked.

"I need you to find out everything there is to know about Sen. Edison Davis' girlfriend, Olivia Pope," Fitz said. "I need a complete dossier – where she's from, where she went to school, who her family is, her favorite foods, etc. Everything you can think of."

Cyrus' head snapped back, as if he had been punched in the gut. _"What?_ Why on earth would you want me to do that?" he asked perplexed.

"As you know, Mellie and I have been having marital problems. The therapist that we went to see has a rather unusual experiment that she wants us to try in an effort to save our marriage. She's recommended that I do a "wife swap" with Sen. Davis for six weeks."

_"A WHAT?!_" Cyrus screamed. _"Are you crazy?!"_

"No, I'm completely in my right mind," Fitz said, leaning back in his chair. "Actually, I'm rather looking forward to this little experiment."

"Well, Mr. President, if you'll allow me to speak freely…" Cyrus began.

"Of course, Cy," Fitz replied.

"Well, sir, with all due respect, this is the dumbest, most asinine, cockamamie, harebrained idea I've ever heard," Cyrus said rolling his neck as he spoke.

"Cy, why don't you tell me how you really feel," Fitz said with a laugh.

"This isn't funny, sir!" the White House Chief of Staff exclaimed. "How on earth is this going to work? Is the First Lady actually willing to do this? How will we handle this with the media?"

"Yes, Mellie is on board. Actually, she didn't have much of a choice," Fitz said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around to the front of his desk. "And regarding your other questions, well, quite frankly, we're headed into unexplored territory here. How do we handle this with the media, I have no idea. But isn't that why I pay you the big bucks?"

"Well, sir, _YOU_ don't pay me, the American people pay me, and quite frankly they aren't paying me enough to put up with this bull..."

"Now, now, Cy, watch your mouth," Fitz interrupted, pointing up at the cameras.

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh. "I don't believe that Olivia will ever agree to do this," he said.

"Olivia? Wait, you're on a first name basis? You know her?" Fitz asked, surprised.

"Yes. Olivia was one of my star students at Stanford," Cyrus said.

"You _KNOW_ Olivia Pope and you never told me about her?"

"Why would I?" Cyrus asked, confused. "There are plenty of people I know that I've never told you about. Olivia is a crisis communications expert and, fortunately for you, knock on wood, this administration hasn't had any need to hire someone like her."

"Well, this is great news that you're already well acquainted with Ms. Pope," Fitz said, sitting on the edge of the front of his desk, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "This should make your assignment much easier. Get me a dossier on Ms. Pope by Friday."

"Mr. President, with all due respect, I think this is a terrible idea," Cyrus said.

"What? Getting some background info on the woman who is going to be living under my roof for six weeks?" Fitz said.

"No. I think this…_swap_ is a very bad idea," Cyrus replied.

"Well, Cy, it's too late to back out now. It's my understanding that Ms. Pope and Sen. Davis have already agreed to participate in this little experiment," Fitz said with a smug tone.

"Well, sir, I find that very hard to believe," Cyrus said. "Olivia Pope is one of the smartest, most driven and independent women I know. I just don't see her agreeing to participate in something as weird as this arrangement."

Fitz and Cyrus were at a stalemate. The two men were staring at one another when Cyrus' phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it.

"Well, what do you know? Speak of the devil," Cyrus said in a low voice. "This is Olivia calling me right now."

"Oh, really?" Fitz said. "Hand me that phone."

"Sir, I must object to this…"

"Cy…."

The tone in Fitz's voice made it clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Cyrus let out an exasperated sigh and handed the phone to Fitz.

"Hello?"

_"Cyrus?"_

"No, this isn't Cyrus."

_"Oh, I'm sorry. I was calling Cyrus Beene. I must've hit the wrong number." _Fitz smiled at the sound of Olivia's voice. It wasn't at all what he expected. It was warm, seductive and friendly, all at once. He liked it.

"No, you've got the right number, Ms. Pope, but this isn't Cyrus."

_"Excuse me? Who is this?"_ Olivia asked testily.

"This is Pres. Grant, Ms. Pope."

Olivia almost dropped the phone. She mouthed the words _"holy shit"_ and then blurted out, _"Oh, Mr. President, I'm terribly sorry. I had no idea…"_

"Cyrus is standing right here in my office. I'll put him on in a second," the POTUS said with a chuckle. "But I just wanted to tell you that I'm looking forward to meeting you in two weeks."

_"Yes, sir,"_ was all Olivia could manage to say, she was in a state of shock.

Fitz handed the phone back to Cyrus.

"Olivia?"

_"Cy?"_

"Yeah, Olivia, sorry about that, but…."

_"Cy, meet me at the Capital Grille in an hour,"_ she said, interrupting him.

"OK." Cyrus hung up.

Fitz looked at Cyrus. "The dossier. By Friday. Make it happen."

Cyrus rolled his eyes and walked out of the Oval Office.

* * *

**_A/N: That Edison is real piece of work, isn't he? Like a lizard lying out in the sun, his true colors are already starting to come out and we caught a glimpse of what his true priority is in life – advancing his career. And poor Olivia, she wanted to back out of the arrangement, but now she can't since Edison is twisting her arm and she essentially told Fitz she'd meet him in two weeks. _**

**_In the next chapter, we'll check in with Mellie and also swing by the Capital Grille to eavesdrop on Cy and Liv's lunch. Until next time!  
_**


	3. Trophy Wife

_A/N: I know, I know, I've taken way too long to update this story. Sorry! Hopefully, you'll like this chapter._**_ Thanks for your patience and for all of your reviews encouraging me to continue. Thank you!_**

**Chapter 3: Trophy Wife**

By the time Cyrus arrived at the Capital Grille, Olivia was already there waiting for him.

"So, when were you going to tell me that you were back in D.C. and about to move into the White House?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well a _Hi, Hello, How are you_ to you too, Cy!" Olivia said, standing up to give him a light peck on the cheek.

"Yes, _Hi, Hello, How are you?_" Cy mimicked. "Now, tell me, what in tarnation do you think you're doing agreeing to this ridiculous wife swap!"

"Hey, look, it wasn't my idea," she said defensively. "You know how Edison is. He's forcing me to do this."

"Yeah, right," Cyrus snorted. "Olivia, I've known you since you were an undergrad at Stanford and I've never known you to be a pushover for anyone."

"Edison and I have been together four years and yet we still can't make it over the finish line into marriage," she said. "I'm giving this relationship one last chance. He asked that we seek counseling. I agreed and this is the result."

"Did you ever stop and think that the reason why you two haven't made the commitment yet is because neither one of you really wants to?" he asked.

"Cy, I really care about Edison. He's been very supportive of me and my career, so now it's my turn."

Cyrus just shook his head and replied, "Look, Olivia, this man, the President, is about to head into a period of severe challenges. We've got some turnover coming within his cabinet, the economy is teetering on the brink of recession, and the situation with unstable governments and growing militias in North Africa is a powder keg that may require U.S. military intervention. Trust me when I tell you that now is not the time for you to check into the White House as though it were Club Med on the Potomac."

She laughed. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Olivia, I'm serious," he said holding her gaze. "Now is **_NOT_** a good time for the President of the United States to have this sort of distraction."

Olivia looked at Cyrus intently. He was trying to tell her something, but what was it?

"Cy, what aren't you telling me?" she asked, a little worried.

Just as he was about to answer, a murmur rose within the restaurant as all heads turned to look at the entrance as in walked a squadron of Secret Service agents. "Oh god," Cyrus muttered under his breath.

A few moments later in walked the First Lady of the United States trailed by a personal assistant, a reporter and two photographers. As she stopped at a few tables and greeted various diners, Cyrus whispered to Olivia, _"whatever she says, do not, I repeat, do not engage her in any discussion."_

"Huh?" Olivia asked confused.

But there wasn't enough time for Cyrus to provide further explanation because Mellie Grant was now standing at their table.

"Why Cyrus Beene! Fancy seeing you here!" Mellie said in a perky voice.

Cyrus stood up and gave Mellie a slight head nod. "First Lady, I didn't realize that a stop by the Capital Grille was on your schedule today," he said stiffly.

"No, it wasn't, but the Washington Post is writing a feature about me and my pet project to help fat ghetto kids lose weight," Mellie said brightly. "We spent the morning taking pictures of me doing calisthenics on an inner-city elementary school playground, and now they want to take pictures of me in another setting, among Washington's elite, to contrast the two worlds."

Cyrus rolled his eyes. Mellie looked down at Olivia.

"So, Cyrus, aren't you going to introduce me to your dining companion?" she asked sweetly. "I'm sorry, I must apologize for Cyrus' terrible manners," she said speaking directly to Olivia. "I'm Mellie Grant," she said, holding out her hand.

"Olivia Pope. Pleased to meet you ma'am."

Mellie's body immediately stiffened and her handshake went limp. She dropped Olivia's hand and looked at Cyrus and then at Olivia and then back at Cyrus.

_"Is this…?"_ Mellie began to say when he cut her off.

"Yes, Mellie," Cy said in an exasperated tone. "Yes, this is THE Olivia Pope, the woman who is supposed to move into the White House and take your place for six weeks. Not feeling so confident now, are you, huh?"

**_"CYRUS!"_** exclaimed the two women in unison.

"I must apologize for his rude behavior," Mellie said, turning to look at Olivia once again. "And for my reaction. It's just that I didn't know the two of you were friends and never expected to meet you like this."

"Yes, this is a very unusual circumstance, isn't it?," Olivia offered up helpfully.

"Indeed it is," Mellie replied.

The two women just stood there looking at one another. It was painfully awkward. What exactly do you say to the woman who is about to move in with your husband?

"Mellie, the photographers, they're waiting on you," Cyrus said breaking the tension.

She turned to look behind her and saw her small entourage looking on expectantly. "Why, of course, you're right," Mellie said brightly, flipping the switch back into First Lady mode. "Ms. Pope, pleasure to meet you. Sorry we couldn't chat longer." And with that Mellie turned and walked away, but she felt queasy as a knot of anxiety began to form in the pit of her stomach. She was already starting to regret having ever agreed to doing this wife swap with a woman who looked like Olivia Pope.

After Mellie left, Olivia said to Cy, "well, that was weird."

"Yes, Mellie Grant, First Lady of the United States and bane of my existence," he said bitterly. "She thinks she's co-president and insists on poking her nose into all sorts of things which truly aren't any of her business."

"Did she actually say "_fat ghetto kids?_" Olivia asked incredulously.

"Yes, she did. You caught her in an unguarded moment," Cyrus said grabbing a roll from the breadbasket.

"Wait 'til I tell Edison about this," she said chuckling.

"So Olivia, as I was saying before, I need you to reconsider doing this life exchange," he said.

"OK, fine, but tell me why."

"Because Fitz, I mean, the President, is just a little too eager to do this," Cy replied.

"And that's a bad thing _because….?_" Olivia's voice trailed off. She was confused. Wasn't it a positive that the President of the United States was wiling to participate in this little experiment?

"It's a bad thing because I know him. I know what he's like and I know that you being under the same roof as Fitzgerald T. Grant for six weeks is a recipe for disaster!" Cyrus hissed under his breath.

"Whoa, calm down, Cy. Why are you getting so worked up about this?"

"I can already tell that he's too…fascinated with you, or, at least, the idea of you," Cyrus said.

"What? Fascinated? By me?" Olivia asked surprised. "Don't be ridiculous! He hasn't even met me!"

"Exactly!" Cy said. "But your reputation precedes you and the fact that you're the girlfriend of one of the most powerful Democrats in D.C. makes you a very attractive trophy to him."

_"A TROPHY!"_ Olivia exclaimed. "_A trophy!_ _Are you SERIOUS?!_ I don't believe this! What sort of neanderthal are you working for? Let's get something straight Cyrus - I am no trophy! I am an independent, self-made businesswoman! I don't need a man to get ahead in the world. In fact, if anything, men are a distraction, a hindrance, _a goddamn pimple on the ass!"_

A glimmer of a smirk flashed across Cyrus' face when he saw her reaction. Yes, he had finally gotten through to her. Inside his mind he laughed. Just a few more twists of the knife and his work here would be done. Damn he was good, he thought.

"Look, Olivia, what can I say?" Cyrus asked sheepishly, immediately softening his tone. "Fitzgerald Grant is a Republican, after all."

"I know, but everything about him in the media is that he's a new kind of politician, a more progressive less retrograde Republican," Olivia said, still angry with the use of the word "trophy" to describe her.

"Well, yes, he is, on the issues that matter like gay rights, immigration, etc.," Cy replied. "But let's face it, when it comes to women, he's still got some old-fashioned "Leave it to Beaver" ideas. He believes a woman's place is in the home, standing by her man, not out in the world raising Cain. I mean, come on now, exactly how _"progressive"_ can a wealthy Republican president be when he was raised in the lap of luxury with a deep sense of entitlement?"

Olivia arched an eyebrow and said, "and yet you work for this man?"

"What can I say? I'm a political animal," Cy replied.

"Indeed you are," she said, folding her napkin and putting it back on the table. "You know what Cyrus, I've suddenly lost my appetite. I need to get back to the office."

"So, wait, what does this mean? Are you backing out? Have you changed your mind about doing this swap?" he asked perhaps a little too eagerly.

"You tell your boss that if he wants a trophy he needs to play a goddamn sport!" she said, standing up and grabbing her Tory Burch jacket and Prada leather tote. "Good-bye!"

She left in a huff.

Cyrus glanced quickly around the restaurant to see if anyone had been watching their little scene. Satisfied that no one had been paying attention, he leaned back in his seat, smiled and then said under his breath, "Mission accomplished."

* * *

_**A/N: Isn't Cyrus a big ol' mess? Even in an alternate universe we can count on Cy to get under Olivia's skin and undermine her confidence. LOL. But do you really think it's going to be that easy for Olivia to get out of this? Ha! We'll see what Edison and Fitz have to say about that in the next update! Please read and review. Thanks! - Neo **_

_**Find me on Twitter: NeoScandal  
**_


	4. Breakfast at Olivia's

_**Hello all! Sorry I've been so terrible at updating. Thanks for your patience and encouragement to continue. Hope you enjoy!**_

**Chapter 4: Breakfast at Olivia's**

Olivia's mind was still stuck on her conversation with Cyrus as she hailed a cab outside the restaurant. She was so steamed that she wasn't fully paying attention and didn't realize until it was too late that the cab driver had taken the scenic route back to to her office. The cab pulled up to the curb in front of her building and the driver stopped the meter. "That'll be $20, ma'am."

_"Twenty dollars?!_ To drive less than a mile? You have got to be kidding me!" she said annoyed.

The driver looked at her in the rearview window and just shrugged his shoulders.

Olivia knew she had been literally taken for a ride but there was nothing she could do. She had only been in D.C. for a short time and had yet to learn the street geography and the fastest shortcuts to get from point A to point B. She had promised herself that one weekend she would just walk around the city so she could learn the streets. She had been so busy trying to get her new office up and running, learning her way around D.C. had fallen way down on her "things to do" list.

Olivia fumbled in her purse for her wallet, took out a crisp $20 bill and handed it to the driver before getting out. "Keep the change," she said sarcastically as she slammed the door.

She took out her phone and began to check her messages as she walked into the building. There were two: a missed call from Edison and a voicemail from Dr. Perrymore. Since she had already decided that she was going to cancel this wife swap, she decided to call Dr. Perrymore first.

"Olivia, thank you for returning my call. How are you doing? Are you excited about moving into the White House next week?"

"Dr., about that," Olivia started to say. "I've changed my mind. I will not be going through with this little experiment."

There was a pause on the line. "I'm sorry to hear that," said the therapist. "Does Edison know?"

"No, I haven't told him yet, but he'll understand."

"What's really bothering you, Olivia?"

"Nothing. It's just not something I want to do. It seems like it will be a big waste of time."

_"And you know this because…"_

The truth was that Olivia didn't know. She assumed it would be a waste of time because the thought of putting herself in a situation where she didn't have control made her uncomfortable. She was used to having a Plan A, Plan B and a Plan C. But this wife swap didn't allow for that. It wasn't possible to plan for such an outlandish scenario – switching lives with the First Lady of the United States.

"Look, Olivia, you and Edison came to me for help. You both admit that your relationship is in a rut and that you need to do something to break out of that. I can't guarantee you that doing this wife swap is going to fix your relationship overnight but I can assure you that going through this experience will give you both new clarity and insight into your relationship. Now I'm not saying we couldn't achieve that with conventional counseling, but that would take months. The way you and Edison were talking, it seemed to me that you wanted to achieve a signficant breakthrough in a short period of time."

Olivia didn't say a word. She hated to admit it, but Dr. Perrymore was right.

"What happens if I can't handle it and want to quit?" Olivia asked.

"I think once you start this experiment, you won't want to quit. In fact, I think you'll see it as a personal challenge to see it through to the very end because I highly doubt that the verb "quit" is in your vocabulary.

Olivia let out a low chuckle at Dr. Perrymore's perceptive observation.

"OK, Doc, so tell me what the real reason was for your phone call, because I know that this wasn't supposed to be a pep talk."

"Yes, well, I was calling to remind you to write your house manual for the President," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"A house manual?" Olivia asked puzzled.

"Yes, a house manual. For the first three weeks of the wife swap arrangement, Pres. Grant must adhere exactly to the same rules and lifestyle that you currently have with Edison. In fact, better yet, these can be the rules that in an ideal world you would like Edison to follow in your relationship. The sky's the limit, nothing is off limits, so be detailed and precise," Dr. Perrymore said.

"Things like what?" Olivia asked.

"For example, how often do you and Edison go out for dinner? Does Edison ever buy you flowers? Are there any gestures or things he does for you that makes you feel special? Are there things you'd like him to do? Put those things down in your house manual. Think of it as your ultimate wish list in what you would like in a relationship. Use this experience with Pres. Grant as a way to test drive all those things that that you'd like to do with Edison but are currently too reluctant to do," said the therapist.

"But Dr. Perrymore, this is just too weird," Olivia replied. "I don't even know the man. I mean, c'mon, this is the President of the United States. How am I supposed to just relax and pretend that he's a regular Joe."

"Well, Olivia, that's the beauty of this," Dr Perrymore said. "In this situation, he's not the President. He's just a man and you're just a woman. Don't overthink this and make it more complicated than it needs to be. You may be surprised by the result if you relax and go with the flow. Just let what comes naturally, come naturally, OK?"

* * *

_**Meanwhile, back at the White House**_

Fitz was walking through the West Wing when he saw Cyrus, who was approaching from the opposite direction, turn the corner and walk into his office.

"Cyrus!" Fitz called.

The Chief of Staff stopped and turned. "Good afternoon, Mr. President," Cyrus said.

"How did lunch with Olivia go?" Fitz asked, getting right to the point.

"Good. One might even say that we had a meeting of the minds," Cyrus replied with a smile.

"What does that mean?" Fitz asked, puzzled.

"It means that Olivia and I are both in agreement that the most important task at hand right now is making sure that you, sir, remain focused on your duties as POTUS," Cyrus replied.

"Well, of course," Fitz said, still confused. "By the way, remember, you still owe me that dossier on Olivia. Make sure I have that by the end of the week."

"Oh, yes, Mr. President, I'll get right on that," Cyrus said with a smirk. "Was there anything else, sir?"

Fitz looked at Cy closely. He could tell that Cyrus wasn't giving him the full story. Something was off.

"No, Cy, that was all. Thank you," Fitz said as Cyrus retreated into his office and closed the door.

Fitz walked down the hall to the Oval Office. He replayed his conversation from earlier in the day with Cyrus in his head. Cyrus had been dead set against the wife swap and now, after meeting with Olivia, he was cheerful and smug. Something was definitely up and if he knew Cy, which he did, more than likely he had probably done or said something to change Olivia's mind about doing the wife swap. That was it. Fitz was certain of it. He shook his head as he leaned across his desk and hit the intercom button on the phone. "Mrs. Hanley, would you please come in here," he said.

A moment later the door to the Oval opened and in stepped his secretary.

"Yes, sir."

"Mrs. Hanley, what would be a good gift to give someone who is new in town?" he asked.

_"Sir?"_

"You know when someone new moves into your neighborhood and you want to make them feel welcome. What kind of gift would you give?" Fitz asked.

"Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand," she said as she awkwardly adjusted her glasses. "You do realize the White House has a social secretary who handles these sorts of requests."

"Just humor me, Mrs Hanley," Fitz continued. "What would be a good gift to give to someone who is essentially a stranger but you'd like to be friends with? You know, neighborly."

"Well, sir, it's been ages since anyone new moved in on my street," she said. "But if someone new did move in, I guess I'd give them a breakfast basket."

"A breakfast basket?" Fitz asked. "What's that?"

"When people move they're so preoccupied and stressed by so many things, usually the last thing they're thinking about is having a good breakfast. I like to put a few things together so that when they wake up the day after they've moved in, they've got the essentials to at least start the day off right. Some coffee, pastries, stuff like that."

Fitz leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. Then something clicked. "Mrs. Hanley, there's something I need you to do."

* * *

_**The following morning**_

Olivia was in a cranky mood as she rode the elevator up to the seventh floor where Olivia Pope & Associates was located. That morning when she got up there was no tea, no juice, no bread, no food whatsoever in the apartment. It had been Edison's turn to do the grocery shopping and, of course, as normal, he had forgotten to buy the basic necessities of a simple breakfast. In a lot of ways, Edison still acted like a bachelor who was living on his own, drinking out of milk cartons and eating standing up over the sink. He was accustomed to buying Chinese takeout and grabbing breakfast on the go from any random food cart on the street.

Olivia was the first to arrive at the office and let herself in. She walked in to the office kitchenette and opened the cabinets. Empty, except for a lone box of Splenda artificial sweetener. She groaned. She was about to put back on her coat and head back down to the street to go to the bakery around the corner, when she heard the chime of the elevator and then a buzz at the door. Olivia looked at her watch. The time was 8:59 a.m.

When she opened the door there was a deliveryman holding a very interesting looking package, elaborately wrapped up in stiff cellophane.

"What's this?" Olivia asked.

"Special delivery for Ms. Olivia Pope," said the man. "Can you sign for this?"

It was clear the deliveryman didn't know was inside the package. Olivia took his clipboard and signed the sheet of paper. After receiving the package, she walked back to her office and placed it on her desk. She ripped open the cellophane to find a lovely picnic basket. She opened it up. Inside it was lined with vintage tea towels and was filled with everything a person needs to start the day off right - coffee, tea, milk, sugar, orange juice, blueberry muffins, scones, a couple of baguettes of fresh french bread, butter, and jam. "Oh my goodness!" Olivia said in wonder as she lifted the items out of the basket. _"Who sent this?"_ She lifted the jar of jam and looked at the beautifully handwritten label. _"Strawberry Jam, Made with strawberries taken directly from the White House Garden."_ Olivia gasped and almost dropped the jar.

"Oh my god," she whispered under her breath. She reached back into the basket and pulled out a medium-sized envelope. It was thick and there was obviously something bulky inside. She carefully opened it. Inside was a map of D.C. She unfolded the map and laid it out on her desk. When she saw what was written on it, she let out a laugh. Someone had highlighted the shortest and most direct route from her office, which was labeled Point A, to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the White House, labeled Point B.

She then noticed there was something else inside the envelope. It was a card. Her hands began to shake as she opened it. It was the personal stationary of the President of the United States. Written in a strong, masculine hand, the note simply said, **_"Welcome to Washington. FTG"_**

* * *

**_A/N: Looks like Olivia will be going to the White House after all! Tell me what you think should go into Olivia's "house manual" in a review. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**


	5. Begin the Beguine

**Chap. 5: Begin the Beguine**

Cyrus was approaching the entrance for White House employees when he noticed a man with a bicycle standing there talking to Morris the security guard.

_"I'm sorry, but we can't accept packages addressed to the President at this security checkpoint,"_ Morris was saying. _"This is the entrance for White House employees only."_

"So what am I supposed to do with this package then?" said the exasperated bicycle courier. "This is 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, right?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," replied Morris sarcastically. "What is this, your first day on the job? Look, I don't make the rules. The Secret Service has to check out all packages addressed to the President. You need to take it to this address," he said handing the courier a card.

"But…," the lanky courier was about to protest when Cyrus walked up.

"Is there a problem here?" Cyrus asked looking at the two men.

"No, Mr. Beene," Morris replied. "This courier has a package for the President and I've told him it has to be cleared by the Secret Service first."

"Who's it from?" Cyrus asked, trying to peer over the courier's shoulder to read the envelope.

"Olivia Pope & Associates," said the courier looking at his clipboard.

"Oh, well, in that case, I'll take it," Cyrus said. "Morris, I can sign for this. I know who sent this."

"Are you sure? I'd be breaking White House protocol allowing you to sign for it," the security guard said cautiously.

"Don't you worry about it," Cyrus said dipping into the breast pocket of his suit jacket to take out a pen. He quickly signed on the dotted line that the courier's finger was pointing to. "If it will make you feel better, I'll even call the Secret Service when I get to my office and let them know I signed for this package, OK?"

Morris shrugged his shoulders. "OK, sir, whatever you say."

As soon as Cyrus realized it was a package from Olivia to Fitz, his curiosity was piqued. Olivia had decided not to do the wife swap, so why on earth was she sending Fitz a package? Cy knew it was wrong to intercept it, but he viewed it as a matter of national security. OK, fine, he was exaggerating, but he needed to know what was in that envelope!

He hurried to his office hoping he wouldn't bump into the President in the hallway. Once he arrived, he told his assistant Peggy to hold all his calls and to tell anyone who was looking for him that he was unavailable for the next hour. He closed the door to his office and quickly ripped open the very large envelope. Inside was a binder.

Cyrus was confused. What on earth was this? he thought. He read the cover sheet. It was a note from Olivia to Fitz.

"_Dear Pres. Grant,_

_Enclosed please find the manual that Dr. Perrymore asked me to write and submit to you before the beginning of our six-week assignment. In it you will find my resume, some news clippings about me, as well as a detailed listing of my typical daily routine, some of my likes and dislikes and some of my personal history in terms of where I grew up, family, etc. Additionally, you will also find what my goals and objectives are for the next six weeks. _

_While this is quite comprehensive, it is by no means exhaustive. However, I hope that by having this guide into what my expectations are for the next six weeks, it will make our unusual arrangement more productive and beneficial for the both of us. _

_I look forward to meeting you in person tomorrow. _

_Best regards,_

_Olivia Pope _

Cyrus angrily put down the letter. So, Olivia was doing the wife swap after all. He grunted and then opened the binder and started rapidly flipping through the pages. There were about 7 pages in total, not including the news and magazine articles. He was about to reach for the phone to call Olivia and give her a piece of his mind when he stopped himself. First of all, what would he say? He had intercepted and opened a package that wasn't addressed to him. Second of all, it was clear that Olivia, despite her angry outburst at the restaurant, was going to go through with this. No, the train had already left the station and Cyrus was obviously not on board. He needed to regain the upper hand. And fast. But how?

Then a thought occurred to him. Fitz had asked for a dossier on Olivia. Cyrus hadn't bothered to do one. Until now. He reached into his briefcase and took out his personal laptop. No way did he want this document existing anywhere on the White House servers. He turned on the computer and as he waited for it to boot up, he looked out his office window and smiled. This manual that Olivia had created would be the perfect guide for what he was about to do next.

* * *

**_Three hours later_**

"Here you go, sir," Cyrus said dropping a file on Resolute, the desk in the Oval Office.

"What's this?" Fitz asked, looking up from his work.

"The background info you requested on Olivia Pope," Cyrus replied. "I believe you will find this comprehensive and complete."

"Thank you, Cy," Fitz said, opening the folder and rapidly skimming the contents. "To be honest, after our previous conversation about Olivia, I really wasn't expecting you to come through with anything. Nice work."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

Later that evening when Fitz went upstairs to the Executive Residence, he arrived to find Lewis, one of the White House porters, wheeling in two very large suitcases. "You can leave those here," Fitz said, pointing off to the side. He walked past Lewis and dropped the file Cyrus had given him on Olivia on the coffee table. He entered the master bedroom to find Mellie standing in their huge walk-in closet. She walked out holding an armful of clothes.

"Are you almost finished packing? What time are you leaving in the morning?" Fitz asked, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie.

"Oh, can't wait to get rid of me, huh?" Mellie asked dropping the clothes on the bed. "I bet you've been counting down the hours until I'm out of your curly hair, right?"

"Look, Mel, we've both agreed we could use some time apart. Let's not fight our last night together, OK? I thought it would be appropriate if we had a nice dinner this evening."

"You mean one last dinner, like the Last Supper?" Mellie asked sarcastically. "I truly feel like a lamb going to slaughter."

"Mel, aren't you being just a wee bit melodramatic?"

"Fitz, look, I'm not happy about this little arrangement. I'm scared," she said.

"You? Scared? Of what?" Fitz said, surprised.

"Yes, scared," Mellie replied. "Suppose you decide that you like this arrangement. Suppose you want to make this new arrangement...permanent?"

"_Permanent?_ Oh come on, Mellie, don't be ridiculous," Fitz said with an awkward laugh. "I'm the President of the United States and you're the First Lady."

"Yes, but you did threaten to hire a divorce attorney if I didn't go through with this, so I'm doing this under duress," she said angrily.

Fitz, realizing that the situation was about to escalate, reached into his politician's bag of tricks and pulled out his best Clintonesque _"I feel your pain"_ schtick.

"Mel, come here," he said, his voice softening.

"No, I don't want to," Mellie pouted.

Fitz walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Look, we both decided that this was something that we need to do," he said gently. "I know this is difficult but let's not dwell on the negative. Let's look at this as an opportunity for personal growth. Just think of what it will do for your approval ratings when it comes out the lengths you're willing to go to work on our marriage."

Mellie looked up at him. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "Now, come on, finish packing so we can go eat dinner."

Mellie was such a drama queen that the slightest bit of positive attention from Fitz was usually enough to calm her down. She smiled and started to go through the stack of clothes she had plopped down on the bed.

"I went by Edison and Olivia's apartment this afternoon with the Secret Service and it is quite tiny," she said. "They _only_ have two bedrooms. How awful! Do people honestly still live like that in the 21st-century? _It's positively Dickensian!"_

"Oh Mellie, stop exaggerating," Fitz said.

"I'm not exaggerating! Edison Davis is Senate Majority Leader. Surely he earns enough money to rent a Georgetown townhouse or a house in the suburbs with more space. And that Olivia Pope, good lord, the way she dresses, she looks like she'd need the size of their current apartment just to house her clothes."

"Mellie, behave. Your snobbiness is showing," Fitz said annoyed.

"_Excusez-moi!_ Me, a snob? Well, at least you get to stay in your own house – the White House. I'm the one who is going to have to suffer these next six weeks cooped up in that cramped tiny apartment. It just isn't fair!"

Fitz rolled his eyes.

"I mean, good lord, it's barely middle class and…."

"Mellie, just be quiet," Fitz interrupted her.

_"What?"_

"I said, _be quiet_," he repeated. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what? It's been a long day for both of us. If you want to eat dinner now, fine. If you want to keep packing, fine. Either way, I'm out of here."

Fitz left Mellie alone in the master bedroom and went to the living room. He poured himself a glass of Scotch and sat down on the couch. There on the coffee table in front of him was the file Cyrus had given him a few hours earlier. Fitz had skimmed it but hadn't thoroughly reviewed it before. He flipped it open and began reading.

* * *

**_The following afternoon_**

The day of the wife swap had finally arrived and Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, 44th-President of the United States was actually nervous. Like seriously nervous. Like doing a State of the Union Address for the first time kind of nervous.

_"Mr. President, she's here. Shall I send her in?"_

"Mrs. Hanley, give me a minute, please, and then send her in," Fitz replied. He let go of the intercom button and let out a big exhale. He stood up and put on his suit coat and then ran a hand over his tie to smooth it out. He held his left palm up to his mouth and blew into it to check his breath. Not minty fresh but close enough.

There was a light knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, walking around to the front of his desk.

Mrs. Hanley entered first.

"Mr. President, Olivia Pope," she said before stepping aside to allow a radiant vision of loveliness to enter the Oval Office.

Olivia walked in and was momentarily speechless. She was standing in the Oval Office of the White House with the President of the United States. It was a momentous occasion. What does someone say at a moment like this? Olivia looked expectantly at Fitz uncertain of who should speak first when he took the lead and simply said: **_"Hi."_**

* * *

_A/N: So Fitz and Olivia finally meet in the flesh. What's going to happen next? How do you think Mellie and Edison will get along? Do you even care? LOL. What do you think is in that file Cyrus gave to Fitz? Speculate away in a review! **As always, a billion thanks for reading and reviewing! xoxo **_

_**-Neo **_


	6. The Four Freedoms

_**A/N: I know, I know, I've been a terrible fan fic writer. **__****__**Thanks to all who posted reviews or sent msgs asking me to continue. **_Sorry for going so long without an update. Blame Shonda Crimes for ruining me and my favorite show with all her ratchet storytelling. :)

* * *

**Chap. 6: The Four Freedoms**

"Mr. President, it's such a pleasure to meet you," Olivia said. Fitz gently grasped her outstretched hand and then enveloped it with both of his own as he lightly shook it. The gesture felt possessive, unexpectedly so, and it sent a slight tremor through Olivia's body as she found herself looking up into the handsome face of the Leader of the Free World.

"The pleasure is all mine," Fitz said holding on to her hand a moment longer than necessary. "Please, sit down," he said, finally releasing her hand and pointing to the couch. He took a seat on the couch directly across from her.

"Welcome to the White House. I trust you didn't have any problems finding the place," he said with a smile.

Olivia chuckled and lightly shook her head before replying, "No, not at all. That map with directions you sent was perfect and the breakfast basket a nice touch. Very thoughtful. Thank you."

"Good. Wouldn't have wanted you to get lost with you being new in town," he said with a grin.

"Not a chance. Although, I think I would've been able to find my way considering the White House is a national landmark," she replied with a laugh.

Fitz leaned back in the couch and just smiled. Her laugh had this beautiful lilt to it that was sheer music to his ears. He had been in Olivia Pope's presence for less than five minutes and he already liked her immensely.

Olivia looked around the Oval Office still somewhat in awe of the surroundings. Nothing really could have prepared her for this moment. There was something quite intimidating and yet humbling being in a place filled with so much history.

There, to her left, was the famous desk made from the salvaged timbers of the British arctic exploration ship _Resolute_. A gift from England's Queen Victoria to President Rutherford B. Hayes back in 1880, the desk had been used by multiple presidents and had been a silent witness to a lot of history.

On the far wall facing her, Olivia noticed a painting that was very familiar. Her eyes quickly scanned around the Oval and noticed three other paintings all done in the same style. Fitz, noticing that her attention was drawn elsewhere asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Are those paintings what I think they are?" she asked standing up and walking over to the far right wall behind where Fitz was seated.

Fitz, still seated on the couch, turned around and looked. "Yes, _The Four Freedoms_ by Norman Rockwell," he said simply. The paintings, inspired by Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt's State of the Union speech given in January 1941 on the eve of World War II, depicted the freedoms that Roosevelt believed countries should strive to provide its citizens.

Olivia stepped closer to carefully admire the painting in front of her. In it was the iconic image of an all-American family having Thanksgiving dinner. _"Freedom from want,"_ she said in a hushed whisper.

Fitz stood up and walked over to stand beside her. She turned and looked at him. "That painting really captures an American ideal, doesn't it?"

He didn't answer but instead pointed at the remaining three paintings located around the room identifying them as he went along. _"Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Religion _and_ Freedom from Fear."_

"It's funny," she started to speak and then hesitated.

"What?" he asked gently. "Please, go on, what were you going to say?"

"Well, I was just thinking," she started again and then paused. "Just thinking it's ironic that Norman Rockwell offered these paintings to the U.S. government and he was turned down. He was told that the U.S. War Office wanted to commission the work of a 'real artist.' And to think now, some 70 years later that here they are, on display, in the highest office of the land, the Oval Office."

"You're right. It is ironic," Fitz replied. "Who knows, at the time, what the real reason why Rockwell's gift was rejected. But the fact that I've chosen to have these paintings on display during my administration isn't about trying to win political points."

"This office, I think, reminds you of what's at stake, how many hopes and dreams are placed in what goes on here at the White House," he continued. "And these paintings, remind me every day exactly what it is that I'm fighting to preserve, why I'm in this office. They represent what I want for my country: Freedom of speech and religion, freedom from want and fear. I believe very strongly in this."

Olivia nodded her head in agreement. She didn't say anything but she was, surprised, to the say the least, by the strength of his conviction. The earnestness and sincerity of his response impressed her.

They were looking at one another and Fitz was about to ask her a question when there was a knock on the door. Before he could ask who it was, Cyrus barged in.

"Mr. President, there's a situation….Oh, Olivia, what are _you_ doing here?" Cyrus asked, surprised.

"Hello, Cyrus," she said stepping forward and giving him a light peck on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Is today the day that you start this wife swap?" he responded stiffly.

"Come off, it, Cy," Fitz replied. "You knew it was today. Olivia just arrived, and we're getting acquainted, so if you don't mind, I'm sure whatever it is that you barged into this office about can wait."

"Well, sir, actually, it can't," Cyrus replied. He threw Olivia an accusatory glance that seemed to say _"we had a deal that you'd stay away,"_ but instead he said, "In fact, it's a matter of national security."

Fitz let out a heavy sigh and with an apologetic shrug of the shoulders said, "Olivia, I'm terribly sorry but it seems that duty calls. We'll continue this conversation at dinner this evening, OK?"

"Of course, Mr. President," Olivia said, leaning down to pick up her purse, which was still sitting on the couch. "I'm looking forward to it."

After she left, Fitz, irritated, said to Cyrus, "you better have a damn good reason for interrupting my first meeting with Olivia Pope!"

"Jethro T. Hines is dying."

_"What?"_

"Yes, I just found out that he's been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Doctors have given him three months to live, six months tops," Cyrus said.

"That's horrible. Poor Jet," Fitz said sitting back down on the couch. "Is this certain? Did he get a second opinion?"

"He's just gotten back from the Mayo Clinic. The original diagnosis was confirmed there. With aggressive treatment, they might be able to extend his life by one or two months but his quality of life would be compromised. You know Jet, he's a tough, old bastard. He wants to go out on his own terms and having a brain cancer reduce him to a shell of his former self is not the way he'd have it," Cyrus said grimly.

"Poor Ginny," Fitz said, referring to Jet's wife of 35 years. "This is awful. Is there anything we can do? Anything at all?"

"With so little time left Jet wants to resign, effective immediately, from his position as Attorney General so he can spend his final months with his family," Cyrus said.

"Of course," Fitz said, standing up and walking over to his desk. "Jet is a true American patriot. Over the years, he sacrificed a lot of his personal life for this country." He turned his back to Cyrus and looked out the window and said in almost a hushed whisper, _"Every man dies. Not every man lives."_

"Sir?" Cyrus asked, unable to hear what the POTUS had just said.

"Life can change in an instant," Fitz said ruefully. "Just another reminder that life is too short. That every moment counts. Every moment matters."

"Yes, sir," Cyrus replied. He looked at Fitz who still had his back turned to him. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. It was a very unpleasant piece of business but they would have to talk about finding a replacement. "We'll have to make an announcement and start a search for a new attorney general right away."

"Any possible candidates?" Fitz asked, turning away from the window and sitting down at his desk.

"Well, I have no idea whether or not he'd be interested, but the governor of New York, Eben Perretti, would be first on my list," Cyrus replied.

"Perretti? First of all, he's a Democrat who's already made it known he aspires to my job someday, possibly in the next election. Second of all, he's got an ego bigger than Texas," Fitz said. "He won't pass my asshole test."

_"Asshole test?"_ Cyrus asked incredulously. "Gosh, didn't know you had one."

"Yeah, I created it after I hired you," Fitz said with a grin.

"Ha, ha, very funny Mr. President."

"Who says I'm joking?"

Cyrus frowned and then continued speaking. "Well, sir, getting back to the subject, if Perretti plans on running for president in the next election, what better way to neutralize him as a competitor than to invite him to be part of your administration?"

Fitz looked up at Cyrus who was standing directly in front of his desk. A slow smile began to cross his lips as the realization dawned on him. "Exactly. Perretti can't run for president if he's holed up in D.C. as attorney general. I like the way you think, Cy. You've always been a master at political chess."

Cyrus smiled. He liked it when Fitz acknowledged his political skills.

Meanwhile, Olivia was on her way back to her office. She thought about calling Edison but decided she'd wait. She felt like she needed some time to process her thoughts on her initial meeting with Pres. Grant. The visit, while it had been brief, had been captivating. Of course he was handsome, but he was also more charming and down to earth than she had expected. Maybe the next six weeks wouldn't be so terribly excruciating after all, she thought with a smile.

She was still lost in her thoughts when her phone rang. She looked down and raised an eyebrow when the caller's name flashed on the screen. _"What the hell..."_ she said to herself. She waited a second before answering.

"Olivia Pope," she said.

_"How are you, doll face?"_ came the response.

"Gov. Perretti. How are you?" she replied tersely.

_"Olivia, c'mon, it's me, Eben,"_ the man on the other end said. _"Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"_

"We are, at best, professional acquaintances," Olivia said annoyed. "You and I, we are not friends."

_"We're **good** friends,"_ he replied, emphasizing the word _"good."_

"Gov. Perretti, what do you want? Why are you calling?"

_"I need your…services,"_ he said, pausing for dramatic effect._ "Your professional services."_

* * *

A/N: Oh, no! Fitz is in the market for a new attorney general and it just so happens the guy he has in mind has Olivia Pope on speed dial. What's Olivia's connection to Eben Perretti? And how is this going to affect her time in the White House? Hmm, the plot thickens.

By the way, if anyone is interested, here's the excerpt from Roosevelt's 1941 State of the Union speech that mentioned the "four freedoms." Roosevelt saw the threat to global peace that Adolf Hitler posed and made this speech to wake up the U.S. Congress to the coming war. Later on, after WWII was over, the "four freedoms" theme of this speech became part of the charter of the United Nations. That's the end of today's history lesson. :)

_"In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms._  
_ The first is freedom of speech and expression—everywhere in the world._  
_ The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way—everywhere in the world._  
_ The third is freedom from want—which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants—everywhere in the world._  
_ The fourth is freedom from fear—which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor—anywhere in the world._  
_ That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our own time and generation. That kind of world is the very antithesis of the so-called new order of tyranny which the dictators seek to create with the crash of a bomb."_

—Franklin D. Roosevelt


	7. Author's Note - FanFiction Farewell

Hello All,

The Scandal muse that inspired me in 2012 has abandoned me in 2013. So, until she returns, **"Wife Swap" and "Close Enough for Love" are going into my story vault.** In other words, an indefinite hiatus. Sorry to disappoint those of you who were following these stories but since I can't say when or even if I'm going to finish them, I thought I should be honest and say so.

I'm thinking of doing a new non-Scandal story with completely original characters, not based on a TV series or movie. I guess I could always make it an alternate universe take on Fitz and Olivia, but the characters I have in mind, especially the male, isn't really like Fitz. So, I think it would seem very out of character, even in an alternate universe, to try to make him Fitz.

In any case, I obviously won't be able to post that story here since it's not Scandal-related. I'm not sure which fiction site I'll post it on once it's done, so if you want to read the story when it comes out either tweet me your email address (look for me as "NeoScandal" on Twitter) or send me a pm through this site, and I'll keep you posted.

**Thanks very much** to everyone who has read, followed and reviewed my work on this site. And a very special thanks to those of you who have sent me private messages or tweets encouraging me to continue. (You know who you are. :) **I appreciate every single one of you, ** and hopefully, I'll be sharing my fiction with many of you again later this summer.

**_"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting." _ **- Peter Pan

_xoxo,  
_

_Neo_

**_Find me on Twitter as NeoScandal_**


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